


dirty dishes

by e_is_better_than_a



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Drunkenness, Eventual Smut, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-20 21:30:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21063503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e_is_better_than_a/pseuds/e_is_better_than_a
Summary: third day of joger week and John fixes Roger's mess of a meal





	1. Chapter 1

When John walked into their flat after finishing his last exam for the semester, he half expected to find some mildly nutritious meal sitting on the counter for him and silence. So seeing Roger over the stove, swaying slightly, was a little worrying.

“Rog?” John called, watching the other man turn from whatever he was making and seeing a bright smile break across his face.

“Deaks! I was beginnin’ to wonder if you go’ los’ on the way ‘ome,” He slurred. Then John’s eyes settled on the open bottle of wine that was already half empty. The bassist dropped his bag on the table and made his way to the stove, gently moving Roger over so he could make something edible at the very least.

The blond hopped up onto the counter and took the neck of the bottle in his hand and took another swig, making John wrinkle his nose.

“Is it even worth asking why you’re drinking that straight from the bottle?” John asked, stirring the concoction around in the pan.

“Didn’t feel like dirtyin’ a glass,” He explained, giving a loopy grin. If John didn’t know better, he’d say he melted at the sight. But he did and he couldn’t think like that about his best friend. That’s not how these things worked.

They continued in comfortable silence. Roger hummed along with the radio and lightly kicked his feel against the lower cabinets, while John plated their food, handing one of the plates to Roger as well as a fork.

A moan fell from the blond’s lips after he swallowed his first bite making the brunette man choke. “How did you make the crap I put in the pan taste good?” He asked, shoveling more food into his mouth. While he continued to eat, John focused on not letting that moan slip into his wildest fantasies that he kept under lock and key.

“Maybe I’m just better than you.” John tried to sound confident in his teasing but couldn’t help but feel like he came up short. The blond hummed, his heavy gaze not moving from the younger man, lazily watching as him through his lashes. Along with the slight flush on his cheeks, it painted a picture that John was sure he wouldn’t be able to erase from his memory.

“Hmm, that’s a possibility but you haven’t experienced what I’m best at, though,” Roger shot back, a slight slur in his words and finishing with a slow wink that would normally make John want to laugh if it weren’t for how thick the air became.

“Is that an offer from the one and only Roger Meddows Taylor?” John smirked, taking the plate out of his hand and placing it in the sink. He was trying his best to be smooth and relaxed in a vain attempt to match Roger’s own body language.

“Only if you’re gonna take me up on it, Deaks,” The drummer flirted. When John turned back to him, his head was cocked to the side, biting his lip in the way he had seen many times before in clubs and bars and it had always worked on the girls that had been victim to it.

Suddenly, the bassist’s throat was dry and he forgot how to speak. He wanted to say yes just to know how this would end and it would be so  _ easy _ \- but he shook his head, trying to clear his head and think logically. Roger was  _ drunk _ and would definitely not want to wake up next to his best mate the next morning, naked in bed.

“Rog, you’re just bored-”

“Then help entertain me.”

“Your drunk and you’re going to think it was a mistake.”

“Then it would be the best mistake I’ve ever made.” John knew that he should say no and put Roger to bed with a glass of water and leave it there. But Roger was leaning closer, inviting John to meet him in the middle and all of the ‘should’s flew out of his mind. 

In a second, he was stood between Roger’s legs and cupping his neck, pressing their lips together. The blond let out a little squeak before leaning into it, fisting the material of the younger man’s shirt and tugging him closer. He tilted his head, completely letting John take control.

John took his hand from Roger’s neck and pulled him to the edge of the counter only for the drummer’s leg to wrap around his waist, pressing their crotches together. It was an odd angle but John could feel just how aroused their banter had gotten Roger.

“We are not doing this in the kitchen.” He protested, tilting his head back as Roger sucked down his neck.

“Come on, live a little,” Roger breathed, letting his teeth drag along the bassist’s skin.

“Brian will have our heads,” John grunted, tugging the blond off the counter and hoisting him up. A giggle escaped the older man’s lips as John marched them away from the eating area, hoping that Freddie hadn’t done anything promiscuous in there when he had had the flat to himself.

Then, Roger decided that it would be the perfect time to leave open-mouthed kisses on his neck, humming as he ran his lips over the sensitive skin. His hand then drifted up to the base of his scalp and threaded his fingers through the long hair, pulling lightly on the strands. A low groan rumbled through John’s chest, making his head become slightly fuzzy.

When they reached the TV room (John really didn’t know where he was going but he guessed that this was as good as anywhere to shag your best friend), John laid Roger down on their shitty couch and connected their lips again. This time, he didn’t hold back, fitting a thigh between the blond’s legs and applying a little pressure. The drummer whimpered into the kiss, tightening the grip on his hair and smoothly rolling his hips up.

They continued to grind against each other, tugging at hair and exploring the other’s mouth with their tongue. John was close; he could feel it burning in his stomach and from what he could tell from Roger, he was closer than John was.

“John, please,” He whimpered when John pulled back to admire the man. Roger cracked his eyes open and whimpered again. “Please.”

John cursed and rolled his hips harder,  _ deeper, _ John’s mind supplied. His hand drifted down to the drummer’s clothed cock and he squeezed lightly before ducking his head and using the same trick that Roger had used on him earlier, leaving a trail of hot kisses down the column of his throat.

The younger man squeezed just a bit harder and bit down on the skin lightly, feeling Roger tense beneath him, pulling his hair just a little bit rougher and release a shuddering breath. The moan that he released was obscene, bringing the brunette to his own release, knowing that  _ he  _ did that to Roger.

Through the haze of their post-orgasm glow, alarm bells were going off in John’s head, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He would change his clothes and make sure Roger didn’t die doing the same and then curl up with him to get a good night’s rest before he had to pretend that the heating had gone out in the middle of the night. Because they were  _ just  _ friends.  _ Just friends. _


	2. the morning after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> someone asked for a continuation so here we are!

It turns out, he didn’t have to pretend. In the middle of the night, the heating  _ did _ go out and Roger was curled into him when John woke up. It was bright white outside, filling the room up with a cool light.

John stared at the ceiling for a long while, drawing strange patterns on Roger’s warm skin before deciding that it was time to eat something and figure out a way to stay warm. Just as he started to pry himself out of his  _ friend’s _ grip, Roger just clung tighter on, pushing his face into his clothed chest.

“Rog,” John whispered, gently pressing against his shoulder to try to coax him into letting go. Part of him wanted to stay there and remember what it feels like to have the blond latched onto him but the larger part of his brain knew that he was leading himself into a trap. “Rog, you have to let go.”

His arms didn’t get any looser and John knew that it was a lost cause. Even in sleep, he didn’t do what he didn’t want to.

John just relaxed back onto the bed, wondering if pretending to be asleep would help or not. After a few minutes of pondering his options, Roger shifted. The action made John freeze, uncertain of what was about to happen.

“Stay.” Roger rasped, John’s heart dropping.

“Rog-”

“Shh. Just stay. We’ll deal with the cold later.” Then Roger shifted impossibly closer, pulling the sheets tighter around them.

And that was that.

**Author's Note:**

> check out my tumblr! dusty-drabbles :)


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